


Give 'Em Enough Hope to Hang Themselves

by charlietheepic7



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Crossover, Enoshima Junko Being An Asshole, Found Family, Gen, Heroes to Villains, Hope vs. Despair, Kamukura Izuru Has Feelings, M/M, Murder, Out of Character Ikusaba Mukuro, Young Enoshima Junko, Young Midoriya Izuku, no beta we die like men, nonlinear timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2020-01-05 23:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18375905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlietheepic7/pseuds/charlietheepic7
Summary: Junko-senpai was the first person to ever believe in him; he can't abandon her! Sure, Junko-senpai was a little mean at times, but she's like that with everyone! She cares about him, she just has trouble showing it sometimes. It's not like she's a bad person.Right?(Told out of order)





	1. Hope

            Izuku was 9 when he met Senpai.

            Sobbing his heart out on a swing in the park, he never noticed the two girls approaching him, more preoccupied with pressing tissues to the burn wound on his arm than other people. It hurt. It hurt so much!

            It wasn’t just the physical pain. At 9 years old, Izuku was surprisingly used to pain, often in the form of burns. Back when he was four, he had convinced himself that Kaachan wasn’t used to his quirk yet, that he didn’t mean to burn him, just like how he didn’t mean to call Izuku “worthless” or “useless” or “Deku.” Kaachan was still his friend, he just… didn’t know how to show it.

            At least, that what Izuku had been telling himself. But he was 9 now; practically a pre-teen. He couldn’t justify Kaachan’s behavior anymore. Kaachan wasn’t misfiring his quirk—he practiced with it every day, there was no way he’d make such a mistake.

            Which meant that Kaachan was hurting him on purpose. And that was worse than any burn.

            “Oh. Someone’s here already.” His head jerked up. Standing over him were two girls, both older than him, that he’d never seen before. The girl who’d spoken looked a little plain, with straight black hair that fell to her shoulders, washed out blue eyes, and freckles. The other girl was her totally opposite—blonde with pig tails, bright blue eyes, and a clear, rosy complexion. Both were out of school uniform but, to Izuku, they looked to be in their last year of elementary school.

            “Ew.” The blonde said with a sugary-sweet voice and a grin. “Who let an ugly, disgusting brat like you onto the playground?” Izuku was so shocked, he didn’t answer. “What, are you mute too? Geeze, what a worthless human being.”

            Izuku snapped. “S-Shut up! You don’t know anything!” He yelled, rushing to his feet and blinking tears out of his eyes as he glared at the blonde.

            Her smiled dropped, surprised, before returning, bigger and smugger than before. “O-ho~! Looks like the little crybaby has a spine after all~! How unexpected.”

            He flushed up to his ears with embarrassment but before he could respond, the other girl spoke. “That’s a really bad looking burn.” In his anger, he’d forgotten to hide the burn Kaachan had given him earlier. “How’d you get it?”

            “T-That’s none of your business!”

            The blonde’s eyes lit up. “O~oh… I think I know how it happened~!” Izuku flinched at the absolute joy in her voice. “I bet Mommy and Daddy did that to you. Am I right? Why else would you be so defensive?”

            “W-What!? No!” Izuku clenched his fists. “That’s not it at all!”

            “Neh?” The blonde jabbed him hard in the chest, sending him falling back into the swing. He flailed momentarily and swung back. The blonde grabbed his shoulder tight with her sharp nails. “Who was it then? Brother? Sister? Best friend?” Izuku bit his lip. Her grin grew, stretching cruelly. “So that’s it. Your bestest bestie in the whole wide world decided you’d look prettier with a first degree burn. What a horrible person!”

            “It’s not like that!” He snapped. “It… It was my fault…” He looked away and ran his fingers through his hair, missing the look passed between the two girls. “I… Kaachan was messing with one of our classmates and when I got in the way… A-Anyway, it’s my fault. I keep trying to be a hero when everyone tells me that I can’t, not when I’m…”

            “When you’re what?” The dark girl asked.

            Izuku curled in on himself. The blonde would definitely treat him worse if he told them, but he didn’t want to lie, so… “I’m Quirkless.”

            He expected revulsion—that’s what usually happened whenever someone learned he was Quirkless. That or pity, but the pity usually came from adults. People his age acted like he was contagious, or they started bullying him too. With her actions so far, Izuku expected the blonde to fall into the latter category, but…

            She cocked her head to the side, confused. “Eh? What’s that got to do with anything?”

            His head shot up. Did she not hear him? “I’m Quirkless. That means I can’t be a hero.”

            “Hero: noun; _A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life_.” She recited the definition robotically, like she memorized a dictionary. “Nothing in there mentions having to have a quirk.”

            “Because everyone expects you to have a quirk!” He shot back, fists clenching around chains. “It’s the norm! But the moment someone tries to do something without a quirk, they’re shot down without being given a chance.” He hunched down again. “I’ve been trying, but… no martial arts academy will take me. Every time I try to start working out, Kaachan finds out and beats me up. The only thing I have left is my analysis, but…” His fingers still ached from where he tried to put out Kaachan’s fire, but the notebook had been too burned to save. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

            “Hmm… well, I wasn’t expecting to have to do this today…” the blonde muttered, startling Izuku. He’d almost forgotten they were there. “I’ll have to change some plans, move around a few dates, but maybe…” She nodded. “Okay kid!” She pointed at him. “My name is Junko Enoshima, and don’t you forget it! Because, from here on out, it’s my goal to make you a pro hero!”

            His jaw dropped. “W-What!?”

            “Your pitiful life has changed my mind! You might be trapped in that pathetic, Quirkless body of yours, but I see potential inside of it! With some training… well, you’re not going to be an All Might, but you’ll definitely be an underground hero of some sort! With my help, you’ll be able to analysis and con anyone you meet, an excellent skill for an undergrounder.” Junko jabbed her thumb at the other girl. “This ugly sack of shit is my sister, Muruko. She’s somewhat good at fighting, I guess, so she’ll be in charge of your physical training.”

            “J-Junko!” Muruko stuttered. “Don’t sign me up for things without asking!”

            “Eh? So you’re not going to follow one of my plans?”

            “That’s not what I said; don’t put words into my mouth!”

            “You…” Izuku’s shaky voice interrupted them. “You really think I can be a hero?” He felt a tiny blossom of hope alight inside him as he stared up at Junko and Muruko.

            Junko smirked. “I do. At the very least, I think you can be _my_ hero.”

            Izuku didn’t ask what she meant; he just hugged her. “H-Hey!” She struggled to get out of his grip. “Get off me, you little maggot! Stop touching me!”

            He paid no mind to the insult; Kaachan had called him far worse. Letting go, he wiped his tears and smiled.  “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

            She huffed and looked away. “Whatever. Anyway, what’s your name? You whined so much, you forgot to mention it.”

            Red colored his cheeks. “O-Oh, I’m sorry! My name is Izuku Midoriya; I look forward to learning from you, senpai!”

**ʕ wᴥ•ʔ**

Later, after they had exchanged phone numbers and Izuku had left, Junko and Muruko were free to play on the swings. Muruko turned to her sister, who was swinging as high as she could go. “That was really nice of you.”

            “What was?” She asked, not stopping.

            “Helping that boy. It’s not like you to give someone hope.”

            Junko skidded to a stop. Her normal smile was back, large and cruel like she was about to skin a puppy. “Oh, that? I wasn’t being nice; that boy’s going to fail and fall on his face. I just want to be around when it happens.”

            That made much more sense. “So we’re just building him up?”

            “Yep! Get him up there, let his hope build and build until boom!” She mimed an explosion. “Despair city~! Oh, I’m getting chills just thinking about it! I can’t wait to see the look on his face when his dreams are shattered by his own idols! It’s going to be great!”

            “But in the meantime, you have to put up with him, don’t you?”

            She stuck out her tongue, clearly disgusted. “Yeah, but I can put up with that. Besides, hanging around that hopeful little toadstool is sure to bring me plenty of despair while I wait.”


	2. Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the two very similar looking names.

            Watching Todoroki walk away, Izuku’s head was too full of abuse, quirk marriages, and fury to notice him approaching.

            “That boy is incorrect.”

            Izuku jumped, whirling around to face the black-haired boy. “Izuru-nii! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

            Izuru stared impassively back at him, long hair blowing in the breeze. “I didn’t sneak up on you; you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings,” he said, a familiar bored shine in his eyes. “If it were Enoshima, you’d be dead.”

            He waved off his concern. “I doubt it. I’ve survived Junko-senpai so long, I can practically sense when she’s nearby. But what did you mean? Todoroki is incorrect?”

            “Yes. He believes he can win the Sports Festival without his fire. And perhaps he can defeat you, but he won’t finish the festival, not without being able to treat his quirk backlash. By my calculations, he’ll pass out from frostbite by the end of the third round.”

            Izuku nodded solemnly. Izuru’s calculations were always right; comes from being the human amalgamation of every talent thinkable.  And with Todoroki so willing to destroy himself just to spite his father… He shook his head. It wasn’t any of his business. “Well, since you’re here, do you want to have lunch? We still have nearly half an hour before the first round.”

            Izuru sighed like Izuku was asking for some great favor and nodded, allowing Izuku to lead the way to the crowded cafeteria. It was the one for students, teachers, and parents, so at least they didn’t have to deal with strangers coming up to Izuku to wish him luck, but he knew his brother hated crowds. He made Izuru sit down at a table for four while he got a light lunch of fish and rice for both of them. When he returned, he found Uraraka and Iida standing next to their table. “Oh, hey guys!”

            “Ah, Midoriya-kun!” They watched him place the two lunches down and sit next to Izuru. “I’m glad to see you’re taking your well-being seriously! Some of our other competitors have chosen less—” Iida glanced at Kaminari, who was eating fried food at a kilometer a second. “ _healthy_ food.”

            “Yeah. The Festival’s no excuse to break my diet!” Izuku responded. “Oh! Izuru, these are my friends, Ochako Uraraka and Tenya Iida. Guys, this is my older brother, Izuru Midoriya.”

            “It’s nice to meet you!” Uraraka gushed.

            “I agree! I am honored to meet an esteemed classmate’s family member!”

            Izuru nodded in acknowledgement, clearly bored out of his mind, but Izuku considered it a success. Izuru had much better manners now than he did two years ago, when they met. “Why don’t you both sit with us for lunch?” Izuku asked. “Is that alright, niisan?”

            “I don’t care either way.”

            “Great! So, will you?”

            “I guess we can…” Iida and Uraraka exchanged a glance. “Hold on; we’ll get some food.” They left.

Both Iida and Uraraka seemed put off by Izuru, which Izuku understood. Izuru needed time to grow on you, what with his personality… But he didn’t blame him! Junko-senpai had it bad too; Izuku grew up seeing how being extremely smart produced constant boredom, first through Junko-senpai, then Izuru-nii. At least Izuru was dealing with it better than Junko. Or worse?

            Which was better? Constant mood swings and mania, or utter depression and apathy? Izuru killed less people, but Junko actually found purpose in her life…

            They returned and Uraraka sat on Izuku’s left while Iida sat next to her. “So, Deku-kun, are you nervous about the one-on-one battles?”

            “A little bit, but—”

            “Why did you call him that?”

            They looked at Izuru. To the untrained eye, he remained apathetic, but Izuku had been living with him for two years now. The slightly narrowed eyes, down-turned lips, unblinking stare… Izuru was pissed.

            “I-It’s alright, Izuru-nii!” Izuku immediately tried to placate him. “She doesn’t mean anything by it; it’s just a nickname!”

            Uraraka must have picked up on his subtle panic because she joined in. “That’s right. It sounds really cool, like he’s telling the world ‘dekiru!’”

            A bead of sweat dripped down his neck as Izuru looked between him and Uraraka before finally shrugging in indifference. Izuku sighed in relief. Thank God. With luck, he wouldn’t tell Muruko-senpai or Junko—“I’m telling Enoshima though.” No!!

            “Still…” Uraraka looked away. “You never told us you had a brother, Deku-kun.”

            “Yes. I have to admit, I am rather curious myself!” Iida agreed.

            “Ah…” Izuku blanched. “Niisan doesn’t really like it when I talk about him to people… He’s a really private person.”

            Iida was understanding. “If he asked you not to talk about him, then it would be unkind of us to continue questioning.”

            Uraraka pounded her fist into her hand. “That’s right! Deku, Ojiro-san wanted to talk to you before your fight! Have you seen him yet?”

            “No,” Izuku said in between bites of food. “I haven’t. I wonder what he wants to tell me.”

            “Your opponent’s quirk is Brainwashing,” Izuru told him. “It requires a response, so don’t answer any questions he asks you.”

            Izuku nodded. “That makes sense. Thank you, niisan!”

            “Wait, but how did you know, Midoriya-kun?” Uraraka asked.

            Izuru blinked slowly at her. “I observed.”

            “Niisan is really good at analysis!”

            “Oh, is that where you get it from, Deku-kun? You mentioned before that you are the Ultimate Analysist, right?”

            He waved his hands. “Oh no, I’m the Ultimate Quirk Analysist, though I am trying to branch out into reading fighting styles and body language…” he trailed off. “But I’m nowhere on Izuru-nii’s level!”

            A hand rested on Izuku’s head and he froze, glancing at Izuru nervously. “You’ll get there eventually,” he said, ruffling his hair before retracting the limb.

            It took a moment for him to process the compliment before a blinding smile burst onto his face. “Thank you!”

            Izuru nodded. “You should go. Your fight is soon.”

            He glanced at the clock. Damn, he thought he’d have more time than this. He looked at Izuru. “Do you want me to walk you back to your seat?” he asked, more nervous than he should be. It was just a fight. He’s been in loads of fights before! But never in front of so many people…

            “That is unnecessary. I remember the way back.”

            “Oh,” he deflated. “Okay…”

            “Don’t worry; you’ve made it this far and proved that you’re a capable strategist. Anyone who dismisses you will be quick to regret it.”

            Izuku smiled at him. He was so bad at trying to make people feel better, it almost worked!

            “Besides,” Izuru continued. “Inko-san will prepare a congratulations meal for you regardless of if you win or not. After she stops crying.”

            “Ah… thank you, niisan.” Izuku turned to his friends. “Come on; you guys need to get ready for your fights too!”

**ʕ wᴥ•ʔ**

            Once Izuku and his friends had left, Izuru didn’t wait long before a man wrapped in bandages approached him. “Izuru Midoriya?” the pro hero Eraserhead asked, glaring at him. Izuru didn’t bother with a verbal response, only nodding, already bored with the hero’s attempt to intimidate him. “Principal Nedzu wants to speak with you. Follow me.”

            “Fine.” He would follow him. For now. Izuru was certain he could take Eraserhead in a fight—the man was injured, and Izuru was also the Ultimate Martial Artist, Swordsman, Boxer, and Wrestler—he wouldn’t stand a chance. Still, Izuru had planned to visit Nedzu after Izuku lost in the second round; Izuku was far too kindhearted to do anything else but force that white- and-red-haired boy to use his fire. Once that happened, it was all over.  

            Soon enough, they arrived at Nedzu’s guest office. This was just the one where he took visitors; the rodent’s real office was hidden behind a fake wall, where no one but him could access paper documents.

            Izuru knew because he’d broken in there earlier that morning.

            Nedzu sat behind his desk, in a special chair made for him. He visibly brightened at the sight of them, but Izuru could see the calculating gleam in the mammal’s eyes. He began making tea. “Ah, you must be Izuru Midoriya, correct? I’m the principal of UA, Nedzu. Please, sit down.” Izuru did so. Eraserhead left the room. “I’m rather surprised; I didn’t expect to see you today, considering how your name isn’t in the list of guests. Nor could I find it in any official database!” Nedzu looked at him. “Tea?”

            “No.”

            That seemed to be the signal for Nedzu to drop the pleasantries. “Who are you? What is your connection to Izuku Midoriya?”

            “Izuru Midoriya. Brother.”

            “There is no record of an Izuru Midoriya ever existing.”

            “That’s your problem.”

            Nedzu narrowed his eyes at him. “Why did you break in to UA?”

            “To test your updated security systems.” Reaching into his pocket, Izuru pulled out a nearly full notebook and placed it on Nedzu’s desk. “I’ve found it subpar.”

            Taking the notebook, Nedzu flipped through it. “Improvements?”

            “The League of Villains aren’t going to stop attacking UA just because they failed once. They proved that your system is infallible; they’ll try again. Or other villains will try their hand at it. Either way, you’d be foolish not to take my suggestions into account. I did just spend over half a day breaking in.”

            “Why did you do this?”

            “I take my brother’s safety very seriously.” He stood.

            “And where do you think you’re going? We can’t just let you leave.”

            “I’m going to watch Izuku compete. If you want to arrest me afterwards, then come find me.”

            They mysterious Izuru Midoriya left the room. Later, after the Sport’s Festival, Nedzu wasn’t surprised to hear that the man was nowhere to be found.

            Just another odd thing about Izuku Midoriya.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Gate


	3. Gate

            Izuku cried out as the guard’s fist slammed into his stomach. He collapsed to the ground, hands over his stomach as the contents of his backpack spilled out across the sidewalk. Tears budded in his eyes, but he blinked them away—Junko-senpai had long trained the real tears out of him, though Izuku could cry on cue if required.

            The guard loomed over the 2nd year middle schooler. The disgust in his glare was obvious. “Look, kid, I don’t give a fuck about why you’re stalking about, but you need to leave. _Now_.”

            “I’m just waiting for Junko-senpai—”

            He sneered. “A fanboy? Jesus… You little shit, if I find out you’ve been stalking Enoshima-san…” He raised his foot, ready to stomp, and Izuku cringed. Something was going to break—

            “Waaaaait, Juzo-san!”

            Izuku sighed in relief as Junko ran up, waving her arm in mock-panic. Her acting had really gotten better in the last two years; before, she wouldn’t have been able to hide her glee at his injuries. But it was alright, so long as she felt he’d experienced enough pain for today. The guard, now identified as Juzo, turned to Junko. “Enoshima-san, you shouldn’t bother yourself with this—”

            “Ah, but you’re about to stomp my precious little kohai!” Junko dropped to the ground next to him, pulling him into her arms and smushing his face into her ample chest. Izuku rolled his eyes. People were starting to leave, but only another teacher paid any attention to the scene—Kizakura, if his memory was correct. So that’s what she’d planned by having him meet her like this. “I asked him to meet me outside school today because he was invited to my shoot today! He’s going to be my prop.” She pushed their cheeks together, faces side-by-side. “Isn’t he a cutie? He’ll be perfect.”

            “Ah… so that’s the situation…” Bastard didn’t even have the curtesy to apologize. Izuku swiftly suppressed the anger before Junko could take advantage of it. “Still, he shouldn’t loiter around the gates like this. Next time you two need to meet, there’s a park not far from here you can use.”

            “Excuse me, young man?” Kizakura had approached and picked up Izuku’s Hero Analysis notebook. “This notebook… where did you get this information?”

            Izuku jerked out of Junko’s arms, standing with a blush on his face. “O-Oh! Well, mostly from the news, or the few hero fights I can get to in person.”

            Kizakura raised an eyebrow. “I think I’d have noticed if hero fight breakdowns were this in depth. Did you do this analysis yourself?”

            He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I’ve been doing quirk analysis since I was a kid. It’s only been recently that I’ve done full out fight analysis though.”

            “Really?” He stared at the page thoughtfully. “Young man, with your permission, I’d like to share this notebook with the principal of Hope’s Peak. You have a real talent for analysis and Hope’s Peak would be the best place to help nurture this skill of yours.”

            A recruitment spiel? Typical. Still, Izuku allowed his eyes to artificially widen, like he didn’t figure out Junko’s plan minutes ago. “R-Really? You think my work is that good?”

            “Absolutely, young…?”

            “Oh! My name is Midoriya Izuku, sir. I’m a second year at Aldera Junior High.”

            He smiled back. “I’m Kizakura Koichi, the recruiter here.”

            “Kizakura-san, if you really think my analysis is Ultimate worthy then you can borrow my notebook, but there’s something you should know…” He looked away. The feelings of dismissal and shame welled within him and he allowed it, knowing the faint glint of tears made his acting all the more believable. “I’m actually… _quirkless_ …”

            A hand rested on Izuku’s shoulder. “Young Midoriya. Hope’s Peak was established hundreds of years ago, before quirks even existed. It is a place to foster talent, not genetic ability. We don’t even allow students with quirks who help their talents into the academy. I can guarantee you, no one is going to look down on you for being Quirkless and if they do, they’ll be on academic probation. We do not condone bullying here at Hope’s Peak.”

            With tears overflowing, Izuku thanked Kizakura and gave him his contact information so he could return his notebook and set up a follow-up interview with the principal. Junko then dragged him away.

            They were barely out of sight with the school’s security camera’s when Junko’s signature grin grew across her face. “Stupid ugly cry-baby. You just had to make a mess of yourself in front of most of the school, didn’t you.”

            He flushed. “Shut up. At least I’m on the waiting list for Hope’s Peak. That is what you wanted, right?”

            “Hmmm… nope! I just wanted to see Juzo-san whack you around!” She said it so carefree, but he knew it was a lie. “I think I could probably steal his security card and get access to the secret parts of the school.”

            “If you’re really that determined to do so, then he won’t be able to stop you.” He’d been unable to put a name to the face, but Izuku knew a lot about everyone who worked at Hope’s Peak. “His quirk, Soul Bond, allows him to maintain a telepathic connection to those who he’s close with.”

            She froze and Izuku was caught within the midst of her glare. “And you didn’t think I should have known that beforehand?” She hissed.

            He was unphased. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. For him, if a bond breaks, all of them break. Last year, his younger sister was murdered in the reserve course, so any bonds he has are still reforming.”

            Junko punched him in the stomach, right where Juzo kicked him. “Dumb moron! Getting me worked up over nothing!” She huffed, flipping her hair. “Honestly, you’re lucky I don’t break your hands for that!”

            “Sorry, senpai, sorry.” It was easier to apologize than allow her to stew on the idea, despite knowing she’d never do it. She _needed_ him.

            Izuku could never leave her, not when she needed him. She was the only person who did, the only person who thought he was useful, that he wasn’t a Deku. He’d do almost anything for her. Especially since Junko-senpai cared so much about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Ink


	4. Ink

            Toshinori wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this.

            When he’d met Izuku Midoriya, he’d known he’d found the perfect successor. A little rough around the edges—the boy’s mood swings could be extreme and his genuine shock at affection was concerning—but Toshinori shrugged it off as Young Midoriya growing up Quirkless. Toshinori had grown up the same, after all, and still remembered the bullying and torment, which was surely worse in the next generation. But Young Midoriya was determined and viciously smart. In hindsight, it wasn’t surprising that other’s had had their eye on him.

            Which was why Nedzu dragged him into a meeting with two representatives of Hope’s Peak Academy: the principal, Jin Kirigiri, and the recruiter, Koichi Kizakura.

            “An analyst of Young Izuku’s talent is very rare, Nedzu-san,” Kirigiri said, snapping Toshinori’s attention back to the conversation. “Even if it’s focused on quirks for now, surely you understand that it needs to be nurtured and protected, not sent out on the battlefield.” He scoffed at the notion and Toshinori bristled. Young Midoriya was going to be a wonderful hero!

            “Kirigiri-san, I’m surprised at you!” Oh dear, Nedzu was pissed. He heard the fury under sugar-sweet condescension.  “Are you implying that UA is unable to protect its students?”

            “No, not at all!” Kirigiri smiled. The distain the two felt for each other was palpable. “I’m just worried UA wouldn’t have much to teach such a brilliant soul.”

            Reaching into his briefcase, Kizakura gave them a thick manila folder. Nedzu flipped through it. “This is a copy of our file on Midoriya-kun,” he told them, taking a drink from his—was that a flask!? “I discovered him through one of our third-year students. Since discovery, Hope’s Peak has given him monthly tests, all of which he’s passed with flying colors. Provided that nothing else distracts him, Hope’s Peak is ready to accept him with open arms.”

            “Which is why we need UA to resigned his acceptance,” Kirigiri finished. “Can’t you see that he can’t stay here? This boy has a raw talent that begs to be refined; you can’t seriously deny that just because the boy wants to run around chasing a fruitless dream.”

            “Young Midoriya’s dream is not fruitless!” All Might immediately retorted before a wave of shame washed over him. Because… not even a year ago, he’d thought the same thing. Was this what it was like for Young Midoriya, for every person he met to immediately underestimate and doubt him?

            Kirigiri raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You can’t expect the poor boy to become a hero Quirkless, can you? He’d be killed.” Toshinori flinched at his own words from all those months ago being flung back at him.

            “Oh? He’s Quirkless. That’s funny…” With the press of a button, a tv decended from the ceiling behind Nedzu. The screen flicked on and Toshinori watched Young Midoriya use One for All once again, shattering his arm in the process. “I didn’t know Quirkless people leap dozens of meters into the air, or have the strength to take down a robot the size of buildings.”

            Kirigiri and Kizakura looked sick. “Oh dear god…” Kizakura mumbled, covering his mouth with a handkerchief. “Is he alright!?”

            “Midoriya-kun was treated on site by Recovery Girl.” Nedzu waved away their concern. “He’s merely a late-bloomer and his body hasn’t adapted to handle his quirk yet. But as you can see, Midoriya-kun’s quirk needs as much refinement as his talent. I can’t in my good conscious let a quirk that powerful just wander off with no training what-so-ever. Hope’s Peak certainly won’t allow it; your school explicitly forbids quirk use on campus grounds. Clearly he can’t attend.”

            Kirigiri bared his teeth. “I’m sure we can provide off campus quirk counseling, until he gets control.” He clearly wasn’t going to let Midoriya go.  

            “Gentlemen, please!” Toshinori tried to placate. “Acceptance letters go out in a week! Why don’t we just send them out and let Young Midoriya decide?”

            “You have to be kidding!” Kirigiri snapped. “As if that’s a real choice! Society brainwashes children into wanting to be heroes from birth; do you really think he’d consider what’s best for him if he saw you confirming what he’s wanted to hear his entire life. No. Midoriya Izuku will be going to Hope’s Peak, even if I have to go to the Ministry of Education to ensure it.”

            “I think you two have been missing a really obvious answer,” Kizakura said, drawing the attention of the arguing principals. “Just let the kid be enrolled at both schools. He can go to UA for his regular classes, get training for his new quirk. Meanwhile, he can go to Hope’s Peak after school for talent tutoring and to take his yearly exams.” Kirigiri seemed to be considering it, but Toshinori couldn’t read Nedzu. “Jin, it’s not like Midoriya’d have to go out of his way to find interesting quirks while enrolled at UA. And continued study in quirk analysis would be beneficial if Midoriya really wants to be a hero.”

            “That… is true…” Kirigiri mused. “I was originally planning for him to quirk analyze from videos of hero fights, but observing hero classes would also work… And during his interview, Midoriya-kun expressed a desire to learn how to analyze fighting styles and human behavior…”

            “Both of which he could gain by attending here!” Nedzu said delighted, clapping his paws. “Oh, I do like this plan. Very well then, I accept. Midoriya-kun shall attend both schools.”

            Toshinori’s sweat dripped down his brow. They weren’t even asking the boy… “Are you sure this is legal?”

Nedzu laughed. It was horrifying. “There’s no need to worry yourself about that, All Might. Now Kirigiri-san, shall I inform the Ministry of Education?”

“It would be best if we did it together. The Head should have a harder time saying no if we’re both there.” They reached across the table and shook hands.

 “Excellent! By the way, you wouldn’t mind parting with this file, would you?” He patted Young Midoriya’s file. “I wish to give it a more… in-depth inspection. Midoriya-kun’s exam results were near perfect and I want to see if it’s reflective of the rest of his work. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a student with this much potential… I might have to take a more personal interest in his training than I usually do.”

            “I don’t mind at all! It’s only a copy of his real file.”

            Dread swelled within Toshinori. _Young Midoriya… I can only pray you’ll be alright in the aftermath of this alliance!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Model


End file.
